


Six Trillion Years And Overnight Story

by MasterSatanOverlord



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cussing, Eventual Smut, M/M, Possible Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-19 09:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11894508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasterSatanOverlord/pseuds/MasterSatanOverlord
Summary: What if The Dark Lord came to Harry one night to kill him but instead began to talk to him? Took him in and even eventually fell in love? Warnings: Dumbledore bashing, neutral Harry, guy on guy romance (eventually), possible explicit content (later), probable character death, coarse language (likely). Rating may go up and title will definitely change!





	1. Unexpected Visitor

Harry Potter was doing as he usually did when the Dursley's had guests over, sitting in his cupboard silently finding ways to entertain himself. His most recent attempts to stave off boredom included storytelling, coming up with fantastical stories that he would never be able to share with anyone because he had no friends and his Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and cousin Dudley would never listen. He laid back on his cot, just about to decide on his setting when there was a loud cracking noise from just in front of him. Jerking up from his reclined position, Harry found himself face to face with a pale man with only slits for a nose and no hair. The eleven-year-old caught himself from shouting in surprise, but just barely. "Who are you? How did you get here? Why are you here? What do you want?" Harry spouts out all the questions on his mind without pausing to consider the possible repercussions of asking such things. The man blinked, covering his crimson eyes for just an instant as he looked at the boy in bewilderment.

"My name is Voldemort." He speaks slowly, a bit confused. Why wasn't the boy scared of him? He should be! He was terrifying to look at and no doubt the old fool would have told Harry when he was young about his parents' heroism and the story of the 'boy-who-lived'. But there he sat, head cocked to the side as he stretched his neck to look up at him, his Avada Kedavra green eyes boring into the older man's very soul.

"Death flying. Is that your real name?" He asked curiously. The man looked almost snake-like, but Harry liked snakes, they talked to him when no one else would. Many people were scared of snakes but Harry found they tended to be very polite creatures, though he did realize the man had answered only one of his questions. He decided to leave it for later, he wanted to know more about the man whose name meant death.

"No," Voldemort answered cautiously, he didn't know what this boy was capable of, or what his plan was. No matter, he would not die at the hands of a child. Not again. That was why he had come here as soon as he could, ensuring he could kill the boy before Harry could gain any knowledge on how to control his magic. Slowly lifting his yew wand he saw the green gaze drawn to the sliver of wood. There was no fear, only that curiosity and confusion.

"What is your real name then?" After examining the stick in the man's hand, Harry turned his eyes back to the crimson orbs, he didn't like the short answers the man was giving him, but this was his first actual conversation with another human he had had in awhile. He was enjoying the back and forth of words.

"I don't see how that is your business, boy." The man replies in his soft voice, deceptively quiet in a way that could so easily draw you in for the kill. The tall man was unsure of how to respond to the enigma that was Harry Potter.

"And I don't see why you're here." The young boy quickly replied to the older man, he found no reason to hold back his retorts as Voldemort had made no move to hurt him even with his previous questions.

Voldemort leveled a glare at the boy but it seemed to be lacking its usual icy bite. "And I don't see why you must question everything. Did the old fool tell you nothing?" Voldemort cursed himself as he realized that he had not only brought Dumbledore into a conversation when he easily could have said nothing, he had also inquired the boy when he should have, instead, killed him.

Squinting his green eyes at the pale man in the black robe, Harry seemed to become even more confused. "What old fool? Do you mean my Uncle Vernon?" Crimson eyes blinked in surprise as he looked at the boy with a bit more scrutiny than he had before. He noticed that he was too thin, too pale, that the clothes he wore were old and hung off his delicate frame. Did this boy truly not know Dumbledore? Then again, would the old man allow this sort of treatment to the boy who had supposedly saved the wizarding world? To be shoved into a small cupboard and seemingly forgotten?

"Have you not met Albus Dumbledore?" If the boy's answer was what he expected it to be, that would mean that the boy was a blank canvas, one that could be easily molded into whatever he pleased. He could easily bring this boy to his side of the war and eradicate any threat to his rise in power.

"Who?" Harry moved himself further back on his bed, pressing his back against the wall of his cupboard, freeing the taller man to sit as he realized he had been standing in the cramped closet for much longer than was probably comfortable.

Voldemort noticed the boy's movement but remained standing, to sit would be to admit defeat and he wouldn't allow himself to be beaten again. "The old headmaster of Hogwarts. You've never heard of him?" The boy couldn't know anything of magic. He hadn't responded at all when he heard his name or the old goat's. This was almost inconceivable. How had Dumbledore managed to lose his hold on the young boy? Surely not the muggles Harry was living with? The man wouldn't step down for something like that.

The young boy slowly shook his head. "What kind of school is Hogwarts?" His question was innocent. Definitely no way this boy had ever properly learned of his own magic. Voldemort had questions. Too many. He hated it. Hated not knowing or understanding what was happening. He, for once in his life, acted gently unable to explain this decision himself, probing into the boy's entirely unguarded mind. All he found were long days filled with hard work, abuse, and neglect. There was no way Dumbledore didn't know of this, the boy had met members of the magical world before, people who were close to the headmaster. Feeling rage seep into him, angry for this boy who had to endure those beatings every day, Voldemort withdrew silently from the boy's mind, showing nothing of his anger outwardly. He was surprised though to learn that this boy had the same ability to speak with snakes as himself.

Giving into the boy's silent offer, Voldemort perched himself on the very edge of the cot the boy was sitting on, a thin blanket still draped over his legs. "A school of magic." He says simply, knowing full well how the boy could easily be overwhelmed. Had he received his letter yet? Had he even performed an act of accidental magic? He must have, Voldemort reasoned, he could feel the boy's power even now when he was weakened from the abuse.

"Why would I know the headmaster of such a school?" Harry didn't know what questions to ask first anymore, but he thought he might just get a more complete answer with this one rather than inquiring of the school itself.

"Did he not come to tell you about the school? To inform you of your… history?" Voldemort asks as though he doesn't know the answer to the question, and by all rights he shouldn't.

"The only history I have is here." The green eyed boy lifts a hand to gesture around the small room and Voldemort sweeps his crimson eyes along where Harry had pointed.

"Do you know nothing of your parents then?" If he hadn't been looking closely, Voldemort would have missed the spark in the boy's eyes, would have missed the way he straightened his posture just a bit.

"My parents were drunks. They died in a car wreck." Harry informed the strange man in front of him, but questioningly, as though he hadn't known that for his eleven years of life. As though he was pleading with this man, this stranger, to tell him. To confirm the thought. Instead, he simply looked offended.

"Is that the lie they fed you? That Lily and James Potter died so easily?" Voldemort's upper lip curled in disgust, though he already knew that was what the daft muggles had told the boy. He was angry they had let the boy grow up believing he was nothing but a freak. He hated the muggles the boy had grown up with. He felt… sympathy? No. The Dark Lord doesn't  _feel_  sympathy. He merely  _pitied_  the boy. That was all.

"Is that not what happened?" This man seemed so upset to hear those words. Was he close to Harry's parents? Why else would he be so offended?

"Of course not. They were much more of an annoyance than that." Voldemort sneered. "Now, will we be sitting here all night or would you prefer to leave?" Voldemort didn't know what had possessed him to offer this boy, of all people, refuge. Offer him a place to go.

"What? Go where?" Green eyes widened as Harry looked up at Voldemort in surprise. He had never met this man before. He appeared out of nowhere and told him that everything he knew was wrong. Could this man truly be trusted? As green met red, Harry made up his mind. Lifting his chin, he speaks again before Voldemort could let loose his response to the boy's inquiries. "No matter, near anywhere is better than here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so yes. Here's a thing I did. Also. This is an AU wherein Voldy was able to regain his sanity (to some extent), his body (so he's Tom Riddle, but using glamours to instill fear), and all that before Harry's birthday. Harry is still ten at this moment, this is the June 23 (Dudley's birthday and the day of the trip to the zoo). Also, this is assuming that Harry had previous encounters with snakes and knew that he was a Parselmouth (though he didn't know there was a name for it) before the zoo trip.  
> I'm really sorry about the end of this chapter but I feel like it might have never ended if I hadn't cut it off...  
> So! What did you think of this first chapter? Let me know! And if you have any suggestions for the title, please offer them up!


	2. Unexpected Journeys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry this took so long… I was planning on releasing a one shot before this, but didn’t really know how to start it or anything… So here the update for this is. Finally.

Hearing the small boy’s response was nearly surprising, he had so easily agreed to leave this place with a stranger. Sure this might not be the most comfortable or loving environment, but surely this child has more self-preservation than that? He would raise an eyebrow at the Potter boy, but rather than displaying his curiosity he simply holds out a long, thin arm for him to grasp onto. “Hold on tightly. No matter what, do not let go until I say you can.” When Harry clutches onto his offered appendage, the man looks down at him once more. “Holding your breath might help.” He advises the green eyed preteen as he gestures with his hand to Apparate them away from the broom closet.

While Harry holds his breath as the man had suggested, he also squeezes shut his eyes, unsure of what to expect when all of a sudden he could feel his body being squashed, like he was being forced through the way-too-tight tubing, he doubted he would be able to breathe even if he wanted to. When the tight sensation around his body is gone and his feet are on solid ground again, he breathes in deeply and would have fallen to his knees if he had not still been clutching desperately onto the older man’s sleeve. He was sure that had taken a mere second, but it had felt like an eternity.

The Dark Lord was surprised by this boy yet again as he remained on his feet, despite how unsteady he appeared, and didn’t seem to feel the need to expel the contents of his stomach, though he knew there wasn’t much if anything in him at the present moment. After just a moment of regaining his footing, the young boy releases his hold on Voldemort and though the red-eyed man was thoroughly impressed by Harry, he managed to keep an impassive expression on his face as he stepped forward, making his way through the mansion he was currently operating in as though he owned the manor. For the last month while he had been coming up with a strategy for assassinating the young Potter he had been moving his location every few weeks, assuring that he wouldn’t be found even if anyone did suspect his return.

As the man that had taken him away from the Dursley’s begins to make his way toward a large door in the giant room Harry now found himself in, the green-eyed boy takes a moment to simply look around his new surroundings. This room on its own was almost as large as the entire ground floor of the Dursley’s home, it was spacious and had dark purple walls, decorated with large gilded mirrors and impossibly huge portraits. On one end there was a pipe organ, Harry was unsure if anyone who lived in this mansion could play, but with his limited knowledge on instruments, it looked like it was kept in beautiful condition, the ceiling was so high up, it looked to the ten-year-old boy as though it could be floating and hung from it were two large chandeliers, made from glass, or possibly crystal, that each looked more expensive than anything Harry had ever seen in his life. As he was wondering how Voldemort managed to get his light fixtures properly clean, he realized that he should probably keep up with the man who was already quite a few strides away.

Voldemort had noticed that the Potter boy hadn’t moved a step from where he stood when they had Apparated into the room, but just as he was about to bark his command for the boy to follow, he could hear hurried steps rushing toward him and reaching his side just moments later. This boy was surprisingly fast, then. Probably as a result all the cruel games his cousin, Dudley, and his friends would play with him. The red-eyed man makes his way toward the dining room, not too far from their current location while tugging his wand back out and summoning a quill and small piece of parchment. The Dark Lord pauses his strides to assure his scrawl doesn’t become messy as he lifts his hand to write a quick note to the owner of the mansion to meet him immediately in the dining area, once he sends the piece of parchment off with a flick of his wrist, as well as banishing the quill to back where it had come from, he continues his quick pace, noting that the small boy had been playing with the frayed hem of his much too big T-shirt as he had waited for the lord to continue showing him the way again.

As Harry waited, he took the opportunity to look around the hallway he had found himself in, it was just as rich and lavish as the first room had been, though it had a different feel to it altogether, the scheme was different though the two rooms melded together well enough to not feel disjointed. As he waited for his rescuer, he couldn’t help the widening of his eyes or the awe on his face as he watched the feather pen fly through the air and into the man’s hand and the bit of yellowed, unlined paper float around before stiffening enough that he didn’t need to press it against the wall, and though his brilliantly green eyes were fixed on the tall man and what he was doing in hopes of seeing more of his magic, he began tugging lightly on the bottom of his shirt, very much awkward and unsure what to do. This was the nicest place he had ever been and he was unsure of what kind of behavior he should have, this was different than being in his tiny, cramped closet. His small room beneath the stairs was his place, where he could be Harry. It was his space. This place, this mansion, was so far out of his comfort zone. He rarely talked to people outside of the Dursley household, never mind going to someone else’s house. And definitely not someone as elegant and refined as this man. Even his Uncle Vernon hadn’t met with someone like this, he would bet. This man leagues above them, the ten-year-old wasn’t even sure why he was allowed in this place.

Voldemort did glance downward, casting his gaze onto the shorter male who still looked a bit dazed from his earlier use of magic. He sheathes his wand once more, hiding it from view as he finally pulls open the large wooden door to the dining room, waving Harry forward into the room just as the doors on the other side of the burst open, clearly being pushed away with a great amount of force, though he knew that the pale blond man who had opened the doors had done so with just a quick flick of his wrist, preferring to accomplish even the simplest of tasks with magic. The bright eyed boy snaps his head around to look at the doorframe as the heavy slabs of wood slam into the walls loudly, the sound echoing through the room. Though the shift is very slight, Voldemort could feel the way the young boy drew just a bit nearer while taking a small step backing, shrinking away from the intimidating figure that Lucius imposed as the blond drew nearer and nearer, closing the distance with his long strides as the Dark Lord guided the small boy to a chair at the long table and sank into the seat beside him. He ignored the questioning look from the pale blond as he rested an elbow on the table and then his chin in the palm of his upright arm.

“Lucius. So glad you could make it so soon. I’m sure you have many questions so I’ll make it short. This is Harry Potter, as of now, he will be staying here. Or perhaps with Severus. When classes begin, he will be attending Hogwarts. This is to be kept as secret as possible. I will be in contact with the rest of you and I will be moving from here again. The sooner the better, in two days at the maximum. I will leave him in your hands and you are to see to officially making Severus his legal guardian as well as obtaining anything he might need, be it school supplies or otherwise.” The blond man looks momentarily shocked as the Dark Lord speaks in a slow, drawling voice before he gives a barely imperceptible nod in understanding to let the red-eyed man know he had been listening. “Great. Now, Harry. This is Lucius Malfoy. He’s a close… Friend. He has a son named Draco who’s about your age and you’re going to be staying with him for a bit. Alright?” Despite his initial hesitation in his wording, he speaks in a voice that is almost gentle to the dark haired boy beside him who simply nods, biting his lower lip. Looking back up to the blond man still standing beside him, he gives the Malfoy a chilling smile. “One more note, Lucius. The boy knows nothing of anything. Do your best to educate him as best you can before sending him off to school, yes?”


	3. Unexpected Child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is already! The next chapter! I’m not sure why, but I’m really feeling this story, so here's another chapter!  
> The spell Snape uses, Omnem morbum, isn’t a canon thing (as far as I know), I couldn’t find any canonological diagnostic spells so I just translated ‘Every illness’ into Latin and used that.

“M-My Lord..?” Lucius asks, finally opening his mouth at Voldemort’s last words. Harry could tell he was confused, almost shocked as those words rolled past his lips.

“Once Severus has become his legal guardian, he will have control of the boy’s banking. I’m sure the Potters have more than enough to cover all these costs so you needn’t worry about emptying your own vault, Lucius. Until then, however, might we get the boy something to eat? He looks as though he hasn’t eaten in weeks.” At the small flinch from the green-eyed boy, the blond’s gaze is drawn back down to him and he’s able to tell that beneath the clearly too-large and surprisingly ragged clothing, Harry was rather thin.

“Yes, of course.” The blond says before calling out for his House-Elf, Dobby. When the small elf with large eyes and ears appeared before them with a soft pop and Lucius barked out his order for the creature to bring food for the young boy, Harry could only stare in surprise. He had never seen a being like this before and, as he was still flummoxed by the use of magic, was surprised by his sudden appearance from nowhere. Not long after Dobby disappeared again, a plate full of food appeared before the small preteen and the blond man waved his hand. “Please, go ahead and eat.” He says, careful to make his voice soft enough so he doesn’t tempt the Dark Lord into punishing him.

“Very well then, your arm Lucius,” Voldemort says, reaching out his long, thin hand with his demanding words and the tall man wastes no time in pulling up the sleeve of his dark green robe to reveal a black marking on his arms, a tattoo of a skull with its jaw hanging open, a snake protruding from the mouth and wrapping around itself to appear almost like the sign of infinity before continuing along the pale man’s forearm. The snake itself was shifting around yet staying in place and the elder man draws his wand out, grasping onto the handle with a hooked end and presses the tip to the black tattoo, calling forth only Severus before releasing Lucius’s wrist once more. “You are dismissed, Lucius.” He says as a black haired man cracks into existence just beside the blond who nods at the Dark Lord’s words and bows before hurrying out of the room. Crimson eyes sweep over to the dark-haired man and take him in. “Severus, you look unwell.” Ebony eyebrows furrow together and the Potions professor almost opens his mouth to inquire about the man’s reasoning for doing so before catching himself.

“I’ve been kept up with refilling Poppy’s stock of potions, I have not yet had the opportunity to take an Invigoration Draught.” The man replies in his usual monotone, just barely taking notice of the small child seated beside the Dark Lord with his eye down, hands and mouth busy with a large roll held to his face. “My Lord, if I may..?” Snape trails off, assuming his very pointed look, as well as his slightly shocked expression, would be enough to fill in the blank.

“Ah, yes. Severus. This is Harry Potter. Lucius will fill you in on the details, for now all that’s required of you is to run a diagnostic spell to see if perhaps he has any illnesses or injuries we must attend to.” Voldemort replies, following his follower’s eyes to the small boy beside him. Harry had looked up from the table to meet Snape’s eyes and the older black haired man gasped quietly and even without the use of Legilimency Voldemort could tell that the Death Eater was remembering the boy’s mother, with whom he had always been in love with.

After the initial shock of seeing much too familiar eyes on a completely familiar face, Snape stepped forward to do as his commander had asked. “Omnem morbum.” He murmurs, pointing his simple, black wand toward the young boy who had no knowledge of what had been said. Green eyes squeeze shut as a quick burst of blue light engulfs the ten-year-old and soon after the light swirls away, creating a solid background with letters etched into it, detailing every ailment the young Potter had ever faced. Most weren’t awful, though there were some recent additions that enraged the Potions Master, despite his dislike for the boy’s father. He had long since learned that blood didn’t mean much.

“I trust you can take care of any potions that may need to be brewed for him?” The Dark Lord asks as the pale man’s ebony eyes scan over the bright list, he nods as he begins mumbling under his breath, figuring out what would need to be made and what he already had on hand. With a gesture of his hand, Voldemort procures a quill and bit of parchment for the Potions Master to take any notes he might need to remember the potions that were necessary. “Once you are done there, I’ve already spoken with Lucius he will fill you in a bit more before you get started on those potions.” With a nod, Snape finishes his list and folds the paper up to tuck it into his pocket and, after being waved off, leaves the room to find the blond man.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions Harry, but I’m going to ask that you wait and get your answers from Severus. He’ll be able to explain much better than I can. He knew your parents fairly well. He went to school with them and was the same age.” Voldemort says, turning to look at the boy who had finished the bread and had moved on to pushing his fork against the meat on his plate, as though he was no longer hungry. Seeing as he hadn’t had much to eat, it was entirely plausible that his stomach had shrunk and he wasn’t able to eat much.

The green eyed boy nods, still acting as timid as he had been since appearing in the manor, though he does set down the silver utensil that wasn’t really being used. “Thank you… For bringing me here and feeding me, but-” The boy was cut off with a pale hand raising to silence him.

“Harry. Think nothing of it and do not thank me. If anyone you should be thanking Lucius. It is his home you are in and his food that is being shared with you as well as he who will be ensuring that you are taken care of from here onward. So if you must thank anyone, make sure it is him.” The red-eyed man says, standing and looking down at the preteen. “You should try to eat a bit more, Harry. But when you are done you will be shown to a room that will be yours to stay in, at least for now. You need rest, we’ll talk more tomorrow perhaps.” He says, walking away from the table, away from the Potter boy who looked as though he wanted to argue before he simply shut his mouth and nodded. “Sleep well, Harry,” Voldemort says as he tugs open the door.

The door is shutting behind the tall man as a quiet voice replies. “Sleep well...”


End file.
